I have stopped living for a while, just breathing enough breaths to keep me alive. Hopes, aspirations and dreams, I have buried them for a while. My energy is draining with every passing second, sinking in the depth of guilty, bitten by mistrust, leaving my mind in a worse condition, thanks to the heartbreak.

This isn’t the first time, I had had many heartbreaks before but this one is one of its kind. My fingers know, what alphabets to press to put the words on this screen. The effusive lava of mixed emotions of failure, deceit, and fear is coming out of my chest. I know, one moment I am productive but in the other moment, I am a decaying corpse.

This heartbreak stands out above every other heartbreak, defeat, and fear, I have ever encountered. My RELATIONS and PRINCIPLES had been at stake this time, yes, I had been constantly feeding lies to the ones who had put their trust in me. My every organ is condemning me and cursing me for their illegal use that I had made so nonchalantly. My every part is in a rebellion against me. I am tired of soothing the chaos prevailing in my soul and in my body. I have wronged myself and I have wronged them. I stayed aloof to my principles and my theories and KARMA got me. I dilapidated myself in front of him, so badly. I can picture his waves of laughter and his fists clapping upon my defeat, the one defeat, where I surrendered myself without even retaliating.

I am not positive about myself right now, maybe after decades, when I ‘ll be my true self again, I ‘ll reflect on my previous life, my bruises and scars would be long gone at that time. I think I should prepare myself for the upcoming good days. If my heart can break multiple times, it ‘ll find a long lasting cure too. My organs have forgiven me, finally, my heart and mind have finally agreed on a resolve, MY SELF PRESERVANCE, and REJUVENATION. It’s time to come out of my bubble, not to take revenge, not to avenge my wounds but to finally put things right for my own self. After all, it’s just a heartbreak and I am not alone in this thing.

This one is for the girl, I hated unconsciously. Hey! I hope you’ll be doing fine. I am sorry, I hated you once so much due to him. You weren’t bad or a bitch, he was a hound, who made us fight. You might not know me but I know you very closely. He broke you in million pieces in the past and my present is enduring the same agony, you once felt. He told me you were hot, trendy and a modern girl. He liked my simplicity by saying “I am a nomad too, I like you this way”, unfortunately, that was again, his prosaicness. He discarded me too, saying I am too old school, duffer and possess orthodox views.

We both have been stabbed by the same dagger. You with your makeup on and I, without it. Your jeans were his pride and my pajama was his disappointment. We had been culprits in his hands. I don’t know the air you carry about me but I am ashamed, I failed us both. Forgive me.

Another girl, who hated you without knowing and with no obvious reason.

You deserve all the goodness of this world without any discrimination.

Like this:

How does it feel to be alone in the myriad of a human sea? How does it feel to see your future crumble in front of your own eyes? How does it feel to be not in the Good Book anymore? How does it feel to sink into the depths of negativity? How does it feel to be walked upon over and over again? How does it feel to face rejections and bear heartbreaks so intense to crush the very spirit of your soul? How does it feel to write lamenting notes instead of hopeful narratives? Lastly, how does it feel to not feel yourself as you but a distant creature, rather a FRANKENSTEIN.

I don’t know the answers and I don’t want them to feel. Some people are heartless and senseless. It’s about time I join their league and wear a mask, get myself lost in a masquerade party. But, no, I can’t do these things. Better to get myself bruised than bury someone else. My mind is in a fix and the jigsaw puzzle is still awaiting for the last puzzle piece, the perfect image’s desire is still incomplete. The mazes are yet to be run in and the scribbles too unharmonious to touch the strings of the heart. I am not curious anymore, I am learning to embrace myself at my worst. As if worst is the new best.